Thursday, May 18, 2017

It's not about her.

She’s looking into her child’s eyes, scared, but she smiles wide. Her love for her child must be stronger than her fear. Her world is falling down around her but all that matters is she
stay strong for him.

He didn’t deserve this diagnosis. Why? Why him?

She will take as much of the hurt and burden away as long as
she can.

She will work hard.

She will take care of him every minute of every day.

She will cry in the shower.

She will cry after her husband sleeps.

She will cry in her car on the way to school, but keep make
up and eye drops in her purse to hide the redness.

And when he is sick, she will close her eyes and sing to
him. She will push down the fear. She will stay awake. She will not let him see
her tremble.

When she draws the insulin she continues to push down the feelings. She pushes down the anger she
has for a disease that is holding her child captive and the logical thoughts
that tell her none of this is normal.

She tells herself over and over that this is all perfectly normal. Type 1 Diabetes is their
normal now. She will not let it control their life.

She listens to the pharmacist tell her it’s too soon to get
insulin. She has ½ a bottle left. Her stomach turns into a hard ball. Her
throat closes. She wants to scream. She wants to throw her fist on the table.
But instead, she is all business and is only focused on finding a solution. She calls the doctor. She
calls the insurance. She is firm, but her voice cracks as she holds in the
tears. He will get insulin. She simply has to fight.

And fight she will.

She will always fight.

Her son is in the hospital. He has an ear infection and the
insulin he is using is slow and antiquated. She sits in the corner, rocking
methodically. Enduring. Willing the minutes to pass so tomorrow will be here.
Watching her baby being poked with needles, and tubes inserted in various
places…it is torture. There is no worse suffering for a mother than to see her
child helpless and afraid.

She has two alarms set for the night, but she can’t sleep anyway.
Her mind is a Ferris Wheel, turning the same thoughts over and over in her
head. She has a meeting with his new school tomorrow. She will have to
discuss his needs without scaring them. She will pretend that their normal
isn’t scary. She will lie.

Two more of her babies are diagnosed. A piece of her heart
dying each time. She wonders how she can walk upright when she walks with
despair so heavy, at times it is staggering.

Every parent is held up thinking about the possibilities of
their children’s futures. When a new diagnoses is in the mix, the future has
blurry lines…there are so may unknowns. She can’t use their future as a crutch for today. She has to find the joy in the now.

She walks the hallways of each and every school feeling
every bit the stranger. The parents talk about what worries them. None of them
worry their child won’t wake up in the morning. They don’t know what she
carries except the extra pounds on her waist, consequences of late nights stress
eating waiting for lows to come up, and highs to come down.

Inevitably...supplies are forgotten. Insulin doses are forgotten. Sugar
checks are forgotten. An alarm is slept through. The guilt weighs on her. She
pushes it down to her toes. If it fills her up, it will make her bitter. She
wants to radiate love, not bitterness, so she tries to release the guilt and
let it fly away…but it’s so heavy. Guilt can’t fly. It will forever be a part
of her.

Not the bigger part of her though.

She becomes a magician. She can turn frustration into
serenity. She can turn loneliness into wellness. She can turn a bad day into a
map for a better tomorrow.

She flips each feeling onto their head when things don’t go
their way.

Things rarely go their way.

But her magic trumps the heaviness of the disease. Her smile
overrules all of the darkness.

She always smiles.

She tells them she is sure all will be well. She never stops
moving forward. Diabetes pushes her back when she is taken off guard, but she
lifts her heavy feet and moves, and works, and tries, until everything is ok
again.

Flipping emotions can take its toll.There are days, few and far between, that she
lets it all come to the surface. She releases all her complicated feelings
through tears and fits of despair. She stomps her feet. She yells. She is angry
at the world…

And then she pulls herself together.

And she smiles wide again.

Forward.

Because it’s not about her.

It was never about her.

It’s always about them.

They are everything. They are her air. They are pieces of
her soul.

What is the emotional toll on a mother with children with
Diabetes?

No one will ever really know.

Because her love, strength, and determination softens every
bit of it.

Honored to be on this list

AUTOMATIC EMAILS WHEN MY SWELLY BRAIN BLOGS! AWESOME!

ABOUT ME

I am the mother to 4 wonderful boys, 3 of which have Type 1 Diabetes. Through this blog I hope to share our ongoing story, to help others see that there is always a light at the end of the tunnel. Like you, I have muddled through all the emotional phases diabetes has to offer a parent. I know of the worry that sits with you like an old friend, because he is my friend too. I just try not to make him the life of the party. Take the ride with me.

Disclaimer

I can S.W.A.G a meal three tables away. I can guesstimate a bolus in lightning speed. I can check my boys’ blood sugars in the wee hours of the morning, half asleep, with only one eye open. I can do a lot of things…but one thing I can’t do is be your child’s endocrinologist. Everything on this blog works for our family, but might not work for yours. Funny thing diabetes, one size does not fit all. If you see some technique here that you would like to try, call your doctor, use common sense, and remember: I am not a doctor…I’m just a mother of three boys with Type 1 Diabetes. That is it. Mother. Not doctor. Blogger. Not doctor. Friend. Not doctor. All comments will be publicly viewable, but contact information will remain private. Thanks for stopping by! Come again soon!